Glorified Failing
by DismantlingLily
Summary: A dark,romantic memoir told by James following years 5, 6 and 7 at Hogwarts. When James makes a fatal mistake, he wishes to achieve Glory and never die. But the people around him change everything.
1. Steel Jaws

Glorified Failure

By Lily M.

Summery: A dark romance of Lily and James, told by James through 5th, 6th and 7th year. James Never wants to die, but now because of what happened the summer of 4th year he is faced with one choice: Achieve Glory and never really die. Through his painful last years and his fateful choices, James reconnects with his friend from the past. But by doing so, his path at glory seems to falter as hers begins.

Disclaimer: All rights to Harry Potter and most mentioned characters belong to JK Rowling and many other companies/people

Prologue

When I was young, around seven or eight, I endured a brush with death that made me who I was. I blatantly ignored my mother's warning and wondered off during a family outing in the park. I realize this is probably a normal story you hear, a little kid lost in the wilderness and getting chased by a bear or something. Those stories are clichéd, yes, but that doesn't make it any less terrifying or unworthy. I had wondered so far off and skipped along joyful with the outdoors and freedom of my parent's watchful eyes that I had gone too far into the forest and I went too comfortably. It was around that time, when you felt like you were young ,and you suddenly realize that stealing that pack of gum was wrong, and all you wish you could do was run and put it back with out being punished, that I stepped into a muggle hunting trap.

It had hurt really badly. I had screamed and cried, but I was in a condensed area of wood, and the leaves seemed to throw the words and cries back at me. My leg was nearly chopped of by one of those steel jaws planted in the under brush. I could feel the metal sinking into my calf; I could feel the blood soaking into my pants. Like most kids, I decided that if I didn't look at it, then it couldn't be there. But like trouble causing kids, I didn't listen and looked at it. I might not have been a doctor or even a 1st year, but I knew it wasn't good. My pants were almost completely red and soaking heavy. My mother was going to kill me for ruining them. That's what set off some eight year old mentality for me and I started screaming bloody hell. It didn't occur to me that I was losing so much blood that I might be dying. All that I thought was my mum was going to kill me if she saw me.

I screamed and screamed until my vision started to become as fuzzy as the animal that belonged in the trap. My throat hurt and my heart was flooding my head with its labored beats, trying to pump blood to make up for the lost. But I kept calling and crying long after my screams stopped. I could barely tell by this point if it was dark or not. At that age I was still terrified of the dark. I still believed in the boggy man under the bed and monsters in the closet. I realize that that's probably alright for a magical child who knows that there are worse monsters in the world then the boggy man, but it didn't change the fact that it was inevitably going to become night time. Being trapped and crying in a dark forest was not something any eight year old wants to achieve. When the last light started to leave the leaves and the shadows became indistinguishable, I started to scream again, sobbing and yelling, shrieking for any one to come get me before my mother and the boggy man came. Then I felt my heart hammer out its last painful beats and felt myself slip into a lullabied void.

But I soon awoke to a room full of light and bustling people. I couldn't feel the pain, or the sticky blood, or the cold forest floor any more. I still had a pounding head-ach and a fear of death by mum and wild beasts, but I knew I was probably fine. So I let my self sleep some more and then get coddled by a worried set of parents. I learned later that soon after I had passed out from blood loss, that the owner of the trap had come and found me. He then radioed to a ranger and found my parents and a hospital. I was soon healed by muggle doctors, spending three days in the ER. My parents were furious with me for wondering off, with the hunter for his part in it, and with the doctors for leaving a scar that they couldn't get rid of. My parents decided though to let me keep the scar. They said it would remind me of an important lesson. To me that lesson translated to don't die.

I learned from watching TV and sports and reading many books on famous wizards and super heroes, that the only way not to die was to live on in the hearts of the world and in stories. I remember a TV anchor talking about a brave rescue of a child from a wrecked car. He said how the rescuer would never be forgotten, because he had earned his glory. I then went and asked my parents what glory meant. I expected them to say a stopper for death or a big award, but that's not at all what I was told. They told me that glory meant magnificence, ever giving rewards, perfect bliss, heavenly beauty, none of which could ever be forgotten.

"Glory is to live forever," When you achieve glory people remember you and praise what you have done. You are never forgotten, that was what my father explained. I had asked if spider-man had glory (I was very into muggle comics and cartoons) and surprisingly he told me no, that spider man and all the other comic book hero's were just that, Heroes. They were stories and rescuers, they may be remembered for many years but they were not glorified. He used examples like Jesus, Caesar, Shakespeare, and Queen Elizabeth. I knew very little of these people, but I knew I wanted glory, so I made it my job to find out.

One blaze of glory was all I asked for. Out of anything, I wanted something that rang true. I wished to be remembered. I didn't wish to be a hero. I used to believe that I did, but I learned early on after my father's explanation, that the only thing people wished from heroes was to see them fail. A hero's glory was to do a job. Hero's time will die eventually. I didn't want to die. I realize that I was afraid of what would happen after I died. I didn't wish to find out. To me the only way to not die was to achieve glory. Not a hero's glory: just truth. I stopped reading stories of fictional heroes and turned my sight to the glorified past. Bach, Alexander the Great, the guy who discovered germs even. As I got older, I started sports and daring activities that I hoped to achieve me glory. I wished to leave something behind, no matter when I left. I know now that that will be soon

DAMNIT! When I became a teenager I realized that magic, like love, isn't something that should be important. Do you wish to know why it's not important? Because when you need it the most, when it's suppose to hold the answer, it never does. Love can not and will not conquer all. I've made the mistake of thinking it would twice, one leading to the others down fall. That's all I got was down fall, for falling. No, not in love, I don't believe in love, or God, or triumph, or pure light, happiness. I fell in lust when I was fourteen.

I won't even try and recount the events that lead to my demise, because those are not important. All that you need to know about this girl that caused my whole world to fall is that she was beautiful. It was this classic back-and-white movies type of beauty. The type that reminds you what beauty used to mean. She was unworldly to me, older and had so much more experience on everything. When she first started to get sick, I tried with all my might, all my love, all my knowledge and witty remarks to help her. But I was too angry. I was angry at the world for being so mean to us, I was angry at God for doing this to our relationship, I was angry at myself for not holding the answer, but mostly I was angry at her. I can't be mad at her though, it's not fair. I can't be mad even though....

She was muggle, and it was a muggle disease. There is no known cure for it, in the world of muggles or of magic. It's deadly; there are potions and treatments, to slow it down. To slow down death! _How morbid_. This is really all she told me about the disease. No information packet, no doctors name, nothing. She actually started to pull away, like she had a secret or hated me. Was it possible for me to have given the disease to her? I didn't even know if it was contagious. How could I when she refused to talk to me? I didn't see her often, when it did it was halted. Then she had to leave, she had to go get muggle treatment. When she left, I told her to get better, and to come back to me. She did neither.

I believe I interrupted myself earlier. Even though I knew that she had given it to me. I hadn't known if it was contagious, no one really knew, or if they did they didn't inform me. Not that I could tell, but I was starting to get sick as well. Through our lust, I got a deadly disease. I fell in lust and then fell ill, and it was all her fault.

NO!! It was mine, all mine, I could have helped her, I could have been careful. There's nothing that happened that I couldn't have been prevented. I don't want to blame the dead, so this statistic can't be her fault, and I can't be angry at her. The point is, I'm sick. I'm dying, and rather slowly thanks to modern medicine. But before I go I want to leave a memoir of how I tried, and how I still wish to achieve glory.

Some people will say that people die ca not die with glory. They die sobbing at they're murders feet, or flung from a drunk drivers car. Some die peacefully in their sleep, but maybe they were in a nightmare, and is dying in your sleep really glory? Isn't it the same as lying back and letting some one shoot you? It doesn't matter, though, because they are wrong. You can die with glory. You could die saving the ones you love, or fighting for your life or beliefs. You can die with people missing you and with people envious of your life, your stories and your amazing deeds. This is all I wanted. If I must die then I don't want to be forgotten like a memory. I don't want the flowers on my grave to die and never be replanted. I've lived and done too much. I've seen too much. I've seen people live through and teach me too many things for everything to be forgotten once the dirt on my grave grows cold.

This memoir is not about my downfalls, but the consequences of them. It's a book about everything that happened after, about everything that changes me, and about the people around me. It's about me unburying the pieces of all the mistakes and all the people I discovered, rediscovered, or even hurt. It's about me learning of glory, but never first hand. I'm still going to try though. Maybe, just maybe, through these pages, through the truth and my words, I will achieve a tiny hope of glory in your eyes, the eyes of a young girl; from the pretty boy front man that I was when this started.


	2. You've Already Found Me

**You Glorified Failure: Chapter one, "You've already found me"**

**Disclaimer applies for entire story, as does summery**

Okay, well, this chapter took a really long time. Sorry. I really couldn't get the feeling of it after a bit. I had it, and then it kinda passed. But here is the chapter, a few weeks late, but I hope you all enjoy. Thanks to, my one reviewer.  
Lily

This chapter's song "Walking By"- Something Corporate

!#$&()(&!#$&())(&$#$&()(&#$&()&((&

One happy ending is a tragedy. It makes you expect your life to be easier. It makes you expect a once upon a fairytale existence. I mean, just because you get the girl doesn't mean she is going to stay for you, or with you or, whatever. I just don't know anymore. Everything has spun so far away from what I used to expect. Spun was always a word used to describe my life. At least that's what she had said when we were fighting. She yelled, angry about how I didn't appreciate how easy everything was and how I had ruined our friendship, which was her only taste of my world. Of a perfect sugar spun prince charming existence. God, she was so smart at eleven. She made my life sugar spun. That expression always made me think of cotton candy.

I was her cotton candy. She was trapped inside a sticky, sugary goodness, trapped by my feelings and chained to my side. She was trapped in such sweet perfection, and it was sickening. She cut her self loose. But then she propelled her self into a sour, bitter, hot sauce world, leaving me, and my sugar spun innocence, behind. Then I transformed my sugar to lemons, and I didn't give a damn about her or her spinning, crazy, cinnamon peppery, spice world.

I was so young when I first fell in "_love_". I was a first year with pre assumed concepts of how the world was supposed to be. I had been okay friends with her; I tried so hard to be, because she intrigued me. We were young friends, just playing pretend games of Quidditch; just soaring around the lawn in the late afternoons, the only brooms we needed was the grass skimming our legs. Those afternoons with her, just lying near the lake or playing tag in the empty corridors meant everything to me.

I had other friends too; she got along with them beautifully. Friends like Davey, she and Davey got along famously. Davey could sit there for hours in silence, just listening to her study with Remus, or giggle with Peter, sometimes joke around with Sirius. He'd sit there all quiet and patient, listening to her and I banter, switching from subject to subject.

We used to speak like a script of some prime time muggle show. We could finish each others sentences and read each others emotions so well after a few months of messing around. At least I thought I could. Maybe she could read me and that's why this all started, or ended anyways. I never realized that the reason Davey listened to her and watched her every movement was more then just their friendship. I never realized that the reason she smiled at him absently even when she was talking to me, was more then just that anxious annoyed smile she shot people over the shoulders of the people she was talking to. Every time I remember her shooting me a smile like that, I feel like throwing myself from a tower or sinking to the bottom of a pond. That smile was what she gave other people, but not Davey. Never, not once did Davey receive the pity, annoyed smile, which was reserved for the ones who weren't special enough to her smart, pretty, muggle born heart.

If I was perfect and sugary, then Davey was honey and flowers by the ocean, with violins playing and old charming actors form black and white films. Maybe even a gorgeous white horse to carry them off into the sunset. To her, Davey was pure perfection. I was her one taste of a sugar spun existence, and Davey was her world. Lily didn't know until it was too late that she was my world.

I realize that this makes no sense what so ever any more. Lily was my friend, my world. Davey was my friend, my quiet patient friend who was always around. He was always around because I was always around Lily. She was never around me. Lily was never around with her ever shiny, bright, red hair and her green eyes far too big on her face. Perfect little Lily, **my Lily. **Davey's Lily, always Davey's Lily. They got along famously because they were Davey and Lily, star crossed lovers at the age of eleven. Lily was supposed to be my soul mate. I knew it, the whole school knew. It turns out that only I knew it, the whole school knew that Davey and Lily, perfect beautiful smart Lily and polite, book-wormy cute Davey were the real soul mates. I was only a fake; I was Lily's fake star crossed lover, her fake perfect world, Lily's fake beautiful, wacky boy. Nothing weird is perfect, maybe that's what she thought. Now it doesn't matter what she thought, because I'm a dying fake, and she's the ever lasting, perfect lily. There never was a Lily and James. Lily and Davey were all that mattered.

That hurt me possibly more then my brush with death. I felt like I _was_ dying. I was angry, so angry; this wasn't how it was suppose to be. Lily knew that she was everything. She had to know, she was perfect, and did she know she was perfect? When I finally realized that Lily was Davey's, even at eleven I knew hate and jealousy for what they were. Ugly, horrible emotions, but I didn't know that they could ruin this. I was so very young and incredibly stupid. Maybe our emotions didn't ruin our friendships; maybe we ruin it all by our selves? But I don't want to believe that I hurt Davey and Lily all on my on accord.

I lost Lily; I lost her world, her trust, her perfection. It feels like I lost it to evil. No, I do not mean that Davey was evil in any way, I never lost her to him because he messed up and he wasn't like the other marauders and I. Lily couldn't just have Davey, she had to have a spice in life. A spice I hadn't sailed across the oceans to find yet. Apparently a spice the evil and sinful had, though.

I guess no one got the happy ending. Davey and Lily never got together, well not in the way anyone thought. Lily was so angry for some unknown reason, that she pretty much forsook Davey; she forsook everything, all the marauders and the quiet Ravenclaw girlfriends. Forsook the sweet innocent sugar like world she told me she had craved so much before coming here. It's almost like she ran away from the world just to forget me. It would seem she forgot everything she knew or learned or even liked. She created hell out of a tragic ending. Lily didn't collapse, she melted.

I made her melt, I made her lose Davey. I got my first detention from it all. I found out Lily like Davey and he liked her, no one had even suspected I liked Lily. I was just the insane, dizzily, wacky best friend, not capable of liking her. So of course Lily wasn't perfect enough to hide the fact that she _loved _Davey. I punched him, hard. I didn't break his nose or crack a tooth. I was just an eleven year old boy in love with this amazing, beautiful girl. I was hateful and jealous, and I took it out on quiet, bookish Davey. He eventually forgave me, probably out of pity for the dying teenage sex symbol. Lily didn't give me a look after that January of our first year. Davey got off easy, just being cut loose. I was tortured day in and day out by her gorgeous firefly eyes.

A couple of years later, everything seemed to be forgotten. Davey no longer spoke to any of the marauders; he was too in awe of the good-looking, smart and talented trouble makers. I, with Sirius, Remus and Peter, became lords of our young classmates. The girls smiled at us as we waltzed by, the boys asked us to join in on their pick up games, or asked us advice and opinions. Even the professors and ghosts were at our bidding. Only one group in the entire school stayed on the same ground with us. Only their part of Olympus was very different. It was corrupted, dirty, party all the time area, where people in search of no advice or games went for drinks and dancing, gambling and music, sex and drugs. This sinful group, parallel to my own, was led also by a few select third years. Led by a group of Slytherins and surprisingly, as well as a few Gryffindor girls. The group of Gryffindor girls who led were exotic, beautiful, cold, sinful, and held on pedestals by all those around us. And this group of sinners had a queen by the name of Lily Evans, my former love interest.

Lily had changed a great deal over the last few years since I had talked to her, or screamed at her. I'm surprised I didn't see this side of her during our last few hours together. After all, she was just as angry and hurt then, but really, the thing I came to realize through it was this: I never knew the girl. I gave her all I could, I let her see my candy-land world and I let her crush my heart on the scarlet common room floor, but she only gave me Quidditch, and her twinkling laughs. However, even those laughs weren't her, I know now. I see now, why Lily, my perfect little Lily, Davey's beautiful little Lily, could never have stayed that. She never could have stayed that perfect, innocent, sweet, beautiful girl. My innocent best friend. She can't and never could have been the sugar princess to my prince. Truthfully, lemons suit her oh so much better.

Lily reigns queen over the dark side. She breaks rules, as most girls break nails, she shed boys as a snake would shed its skin: on a regular basis. She's just as beautiful and just as perfect as she's always been, but along with the Marauders and Davey, she shed any trace of morals and the sweet innocence that I first saw in her. She captures every one the way she caught me, by being what you need. She sheds many things like snake skin, other than boys. A certain look or way of speaking. She is like your own personal goddess. What ever you want is what you chose to see her as. But enough about Lily, this is about me, and my life, which was actually very much hers as well. I was, however always seen as a tad self obsessed.

Truthfully, in some people's eyes, I was just as perfect as her, I suppose. I did the same thing, unintentionally. I was the people's golden boy, the smart, kind, chivalrous, lady's Jock. Sirius was the slightly less serious jock, more playboys, less studious. Remus was the eternal optimist, always willing to work on it, the 'sit-down-and-make-a-plan' type. Peter brought us together with his kindness, sarcastically deep and funny nature. We made up the Marauders, the fighters of the good fights, the funny, hot boys that you were not actually afraid to talk to. We provided the Ying to Lily's sinners Yang. If anything, this made us self righteous in a sense. We made it our job to share an equal hate for Lucius Malfoy and his little gang. We made it our jobs to target Snape and those dirty Slytherins in everything. In return, Lucius and Lily just seemed to smirk, saying quietly _"You can never bring us down to your level. We are far too superior to tango with you little boys."_

We played back and forth, like a game of tennis, or two chasers throwing the quaffle to and fro. We pranked them, they hit us right back in revenge. What is surprising however is that through all of the years that we did this, no one was ever intentionally hurt by the pranks or the vengeance until actual feelings and people became involved. We treated each other regularly and with utmost respect when we were not fighting. One of the occasions we all came together in some weird sort of unity was their wild parties, or a raves or any other such event they planned. It was actually at one of these events that my story truly begins. The day Lily stumbled back into my life.

!!#$&(#$$$&&(&##!$#$&((&&&$#$#

A/N: Well Okay. That really wasn't any where as long as it should have been, but I really couldn't start continue with it until the next chapter. I hope you all enjoy it and please please please (with ranch dressing, and Texas Pete and pudding on top!) review!  
Lily


	3. I Still Hate You

**Glorified Failing: Chapter 2, "I still hate you" **

A/N: This took a really long time, and I am really sorry. But here it is, chapter three, and I hope you enjoy it. Also, I realize, Marauders era was 70's. I hate the 70's, and know pretty much nil about them. But I love the 80's and have enough older siblings to have pretty much been raised in them. So one decade off is this story set. Lily

ps: check my profile for update info in the future. And explanations. lol

This chapter song "Chicago Is So Two Years Ago"- Fallout Boy

!#&()(&#&()())&#&()((&&#&()#

"James! Ah, James, my favorite boy ever! Did you see that beauty there? No? Well, she's mine anyways. Say, have you tasted this Gin and tonic? Lucius Malfoy's goons have spoiled me again,"

The words penetrated my skull like nails, accompanied with alcohol, bright lights, loud music and smoke. Sirius was by this point, further off his rocker and pumped with enough energy to power the Hogwarts Express.

We were once again spending a Saturday night at some low down, high profile party. Sirius was of course drunk, flirtatious and all around hilarious to watch. I could almost see Remus mentally calculating the different debacles Sirius would get us into before he passed out. I hadn't seen Peter for a while, but I had no doubt he was off cracking jokes and mixing it with his kindness and talent for gambling.

I, however, was no longer up for partying and truthfully; the effects of my medicine and alcohol were not creating a killer buzz. So, I bowed out of the Marauder's corner of the crowded dungeon chamber and made for the door. I was quickly distracted by a loud fight coming from the center of the room. Fights weren't uncommon at these parties, brawls over checks or card games, but this was defiantly not that.

The majority of the crowd made room for me to watch, and I laid my eyes upon the always beautiful Lily. Who was currently screaming her head off at her prince of hell, Lucius Malfoy, King of Sirius's Gin and Tonics. Lily was drunk, something that never seemed to happen to the ever stunning hostess of the underworld.

Not only was she drunk, but she wasn't acting any of her roles. She wasn't 'perfect'. She was angry, her hair flying everywhere and her voice scratchy and loud with emotion and smoke.

Lucius was, of course, just as cold as always. He stood back from Lily, saying words with a demanding edge that they even made me angry. I stood and watched as she laughed bitterly at his cold words and snapped a pretty reply before turning to walk away.

Lucius grabbed her wrist and yanked her back, roughly into him. I could see the crowd getting nervous, people glancing around, wondering who would step in if this got violent. I saw Sirius sit up from his stupor and shoot me a confused, scared look. After all these years, she was still just Lily to him, the same girl he used to joke with during potions, and he didn't care that she was no longer the straight edge, innocent, kind, best friend. He wanted me to step in, step up.

The weird thing was, I wanted to step in as well. Maybe it was because she was vulnerable and threatened and I wanted to play hero, or maybe it was because once she argued like that with me, but I wanted to rip Malfoy's bloody hands off her. But I couldn't. I sat back and watched as it unfolded, just like everybody else. I moved slightly, so I couldn't see Sirius's disapproving glare. I watched as Lucius roughly shoved and shook her, him whispering under his breath so only she could hear what he said. She was biting her lip hard, wearing a hole through the color. The strands of a popular muggle song blared from some magicked speakers. Finally she spit in his face, while he was still speaking. He released her harshly, sending her sprawling across the circle that had gathered around them.

I could see Arabella Figg look up from her dealing table. Lily and she were close friends, I knew that. She looked as if she was about to stand up. Lucius had wiped his face, and was glancing around till his eyes fell on Lily, who had yet to stand up. I was worried now. What was taking her so long? She had to get out of here. She had Lucius real mad now, and I knew with his alcohol and genes that it wouldn't turn out good. I saw Arabella start to stand, looking like she was about to jump in and keep Lucius off. But Arabella was thin and wispy; no way could she keep an angry Malfoy at bay. Lily still wasn't up, Arabella was still worried and Lucius was walking towards Lily, lying feet from me on the floor. I had to step up; no one would oppose me except maybe Lily, Lucius and Arabella.

I quickly walked forward and knelt down to see if I could get Lily up. Her eyes were wide open, staring hard at the floor, where tears were creating a small puddle. I could hear Arabella telling Lucius to stop, but at that moment, I couldn't remember what he should stop. But it all became real when I felt him grab the back of my shirt, pull me up and put his fist right into my mouth.

I was bleeding, the blood creating a painting on the floor, a very deadly painting. But Sirius was right there, pulling Lucius away with Arabella's help and Remus was telling people to pull back and not get near any blood. Peter was running over and pulling out his wand, I gave him a sharp look, my sleeve pressed to my mouth, but he glared back and started to shout spells to clean up the blood. Arabella was shoved away from the ongoing brawl with Lucius and Sirius and ran towards me.

"James, take Lily and go," she snapped it briskly, with such urgency I couldn't reject. Bending down, pushing up my blood soaked sleeve, I scooped up Lily and pushed my way to the door.

Once out in the darkened hallway, I could still hear the shouts going on from the inside. The music had changed, slowed down, it was all very surreal. Here I was, James Potter, the dying quidditch star, carrying Lily, the sexy, hellion, bleeding (me) and crying (her) down a dungeon corridor, both of us probably drunk.

Finally after wondering around the cold, stone rooms, I found the stairs that led up to the old rose garden. Pushing open the heavy door and pulling Lily through it into the calm fall air was like an awakening. I realized everything that had been happening tonight and for the last few weeks and how much I should have noticed about Lily lately.  
How her hair wasn't shining in the sun during Care of Magical Creatures lessons, or how she was drinking at her parties, or not showing up at all. Or how she and Lucius seemed to be avoiding each other, or she was avoiding him made more sense. But I didn't because Lily wasn't my friend, or my responsibility.

"Potter, please put me down already," her voice said suddenly, croaking the words out softly, hoarse from crying. I immediately set her to her feet, and backed away, aware of the fact I was still bleeding. She looked over at me strangely then glanced around the garden.

"Where are we anyways?" she asked lightly walking towards the almost bare bushes surrounding the stone courtyard.  
"Err… well see Arabella, she kinda thought it was safer if we got out of there, so I kinda grabbed you, bleeding and all and…."  
"I know why we're here Potter, I wasn't exactly unconscious," she glanced sharply over at me, to see if I was aware at all how stupid I sounded or how insulting she was. But her expression changed sharply and she walked slowly over to me.

"You however, will be unconscious if we don't stop the bleeding soon," she has said we, something that had not described Lily and I in a long time. She made her way toward me with her hand outstretched to help the bleeding, and I almost let her. Touch me, I mean, or help. But I didn't, Merlin knows why.

"What's the matter, afraid of girls?" she taunted, but I could see anger and something else, offence, flare up in her eyes. I just blinked and crossed my eyes to stare at the blood on my nose, but it didn't make her laugh. The Lily I knew would have laughed, but I kept forgetting, this was Lucius' Lily, not mine. But that hurt, and I wanted her back, after all these years.

"No, I just can't have you touch my blood. You can't," I meant to say it coldly, sharply, sternly, nicely, polite, softly, anything but how it came out, pleadingly. But I said it like a whimper, and I felt like I should be crying to accompany the tone.

"James." She was the one to speak sharply, and my first name, something I'm sure she had not said in years. She was defiantly panicky at the thought of me passing out on her to say it.

"No, I… I have AIDs Lils, you can't touch my blood," this time I managed to say it sharply, except for the stammer at the beginning. But after I said it I knew I shouldn't. I knew I shouldn't have because she would now pity me and I hated that. Also I called her Lils, something I hadn't called her in years. Another thing I shouldn't have.

She looked at me for a long time, before walking over and pulling out her wand. I can admit, for a second I thought she was gonna curse me into a bazillion pieces. But instead she muttered a few words and I felt the slightest tingle and then nothing. I had stopped bleeding completely.

"Don't you ever expect me to have pity for you, James. You lost any right to that a long time ago, and dying isn't the way to get it back," I realized that she was bloody serious, and that's what finally made me laugh. It was a relief to finally laugh for something. But Lily only shook her head jerkily and walked towards a bench against the opposite wall. Hesitantly I followed, sitting against the other armrest I waited for her to speak, like I knew she would.

"Did you at least love the girl who gave it to you?" I looked up at that. Any question about this disease is expected. About _her _it wasn't. Lily said it sharply, like she thought I was an insensitive, male jerk who doesn't care about dying since I got laid. She was accusing me of sleeping around and not loving the girls I did it with. My logical side if it had been present at all that night, would have told me that Lily of course would expect it with the male trash (i.e.: Malfoy) she hung around with. But sadly, I was too drunk to be smart, but not too drunk to be as hard as her.

"_Gave_ to me? You mean, Like a Christmas present?" dead pan sarcastic, and Scylla cruel, was the only way I could deal with my ex-soul mate asking about my ex girl friends 'gift' to me. But that's just me. Lily always was a bit more elegant then me, even piss drunk, mascara smeared, talking to the least deserving, dying ex-best friend in the world after her boyfriend bitched her out. She didn't do anything, always the patient one, waiting to be confined in, expected to be trusted. Silently, the perfect little girl, she was waiting to know the truth, and completely blowing off my comeback. God, I hated her. And she still waited.

" 'thought I did," I spoke the words carefully, willing her to understand them. Willing myself not to elaborate on those words.

"Why don't you, because she's killing you softly?" she said the oh-so-clichéd words when only she could make them sound sincere, and I hated her even more for it.

"No, because there's no such thing as love. Why hate a dead girl, especially since she and my aunt are the only people for me on the other side? If there is such a place," I said it straight out, with out planning or lying, just simply, defensively. I wasn't a complete prick; I couldn't hate a girl for accidentally killing me right? Especially if she killed herself first. But I could hate Lily, I don't know why, but I could. I could piss her off to, and invade her personal life as well.

"What about you Evans? Hmm? Gonna share about your little lovers spat from before?" I said it tauntingly, but not cruel, I couldn't be cruel to her, even if she was to damn easy to hate.

"Lovers spat? Really _Potter, _watching the day time telly? He's not my lover, and there's nothing to share, Lucius was drunk. He can be possessive, forgets the pact, it happens to the best of us," she spoke like she could forgive the bruises I'm sure decorated her wrists from him. Like it didn't matter. Why should that ass be forgiven and not me? But curiosity killed the anger. I never was a cat person.

"What pact? A prossie-punter thing perhaps?" That got a glare out of her, it was about time one of us showed some emotion over this.

"How dare you accuse me of sleeping with Lucius! Especially on a business level only. Not all of us have to lose our virginity before were fully developed Potter. Some actually respect our bodies and God's wishes," Lily was a tricky girl. Fiery as her hair, she could explode at me at any comment. And the fact that she was saying she wasn't fully developed…. Also how she could be so… _un-saintly _and still believe in God so firmly. The girl was and is an amazing oxymoron in everything.

"Bible thumping now Evans?" another glare, she apparently couldn't deign her self to respond. But I could just see her being thrown to the floor by that brute and I could suddenly see him with my face, and that was wrong. I was wrong.

"Evans, I'm sorry really. I didn't mean to call you slutty or imply anything. Well I did, but not like, cruelly. And I'm not making sense. But seriously, what is this pact you speak of?" now it was my turn waiting. Feeding like a parasite off her glow.

"No one belongs to each other, Potter. It keeps jealousy at bay, maybe you should try it," She left the last part open, applying more pressure to an old wound, mine or hers I wasn't sure.

"It's simple Potter really. He saw me flirt with some other guy, he lost his head. _You_ should get that. Only instead of punching the guy, he took it out on me, hell if I know why," she added the last part to her self, but she always spoke loudly, the lime-light gal she was. But it made me wonder how much of that emotion was still down there, how many self titled 'Malfoy issues' existed. For some reason I couldn't stand the thought of her forgiving him so easily.

"But why would he hurt you Lily, not the guy, you have to know some reason?" I lowered my voice, talking to a tiger. I needed her to uncover the hurt, I don't know why.

"I DON'T KNOW! God Potter, give it up, after all this time, I still have no idea why. Alcohol okay, it happens to people all the time. Muggles have programs for it. So stop, Lucius is fine, I'm fine," She barely gave me time to finish before defending Malfoy's' honor. Her stupid pride.

"After all this time? What after all the time you've been hanging around him like his little hussy? Or maybe after all the times he's gotten drunk and duffed you up a bit? All the times you've seen him do it to some one else in your little pact? What is it that your defending in him?" Now I was yelling at her back, pleading once again for her to not do something. Not to touch me again, not to touch him again, what does it matter.  
We were both standing, civilized discussion long lost, screaming in each others face, a complete repeat of our last discussion those years back. Always about another boy.

"God Potter! Get over yourself, you're not the only saintly, non abusing boy in the wizarding world! There are other people who won't slam around their girls and there are people who don't have those charming little hussies you speak of! Some boys just care! Care enough to not see their girl friends with other boys, there are decent boys out in the world," At the end, after the anger had almost faded, it sounded like she was convincing herself. Some one as pretty as her shouldn't have too. Well, I guess they should, depending on our culture.

"But Lily, is Lucius one of them? That's what I'm asking, is he one of the few, and the proud decent ones, who won't break your heart?"  
"It's the decent ones that will break your heart Potter. But he's not my boyfriend, so it doesn't matter! All that matters is he got jealous when he should have, he just got jealous and drunk, and it happens James, it just happens and I just deal. I don't need you making some sort of scene,"

"It shouldn't happen Lily, Okay? And Arabella would have caused a scene if I didn't. Sirius would have, you already were causing a scene after all,"  
"Arabella knows better and Sirius doesn't know me,"  
"Your best friend knows better than to save you from a boy hitting you around? God, if only the marauders looked out for me like that. And Sirius **knew **you, which counts for something. People don't change that much, not really,"

"Yes they do James. They grow up," And all I could do was stare at her. She had changed, as much as I wished it was impossible. But I didn't think it was just growing up.

"James, you have changed too okay! Where are all your fancy jokes and clinging girls? The elaborate pranks and vindictive triumphs? Are you going to tell me that that isn't you, there for you couldn't change? You changed James, you're not the carefree bastard everyone knows, as much as you wish you were,"

"I haven't changed Lily, you'll see that. And neither have you. Except maybe you have, because the Lily I knew never fell crying and let some drunken lard push them around," Low blow, but she had to see what this guy was doing. If she didn't it would happen. And I hadn't changed, I couldn't have.

"Well, I did. God did I?" she just shook her head coldly, disbelieving. But I could see in her eyes, then, that she wouldn't leave Lucius ever, their pact was too safe and she was too much apart of him. She could hate him, but it didn't matter. She had changed. All the regret in the world didn't matter. But I could help. I could give her another place to be. If she had another table to sit at, then she wouldn't be afraid to pick up her plate. But I also knew she wouldn't let me. She liked her plate, it was pure gold. But if she expected to be trusted then so could I.

"How long Lily, has Lucius been a drunken lard towards you," Remus could tell you I was always the elegant one. But Lily smiled coldly any ways and replied with more dignity than I could have.

"It only started this year. I think the whole prefect thing threw him into a power spin and the rumors of war into alcohol. But we're teenagers, were supposed to have angst right? Mine's nothing new," God I wish I was that sure about angst. But mine wasn't something new and hers might have been but it wasn't unimportant.

"But James, this is enough talk of so called teen angst between to bitter cliques. So I think I'll head in. I'm still feeling a little tipsy, and I need to be alone tonight."

And she made to the door I had opened what seemed hours earlier. But she spoke quietly,  
walking away.

"I wish I could recall the first day,  
First hour, first moment your meeting me  
if bright or dim the season might be  
summer or winter aught I can say  
So Unrecorded it did slip away  
So Blind was I to see and foresee"

I stared at her startled. Here she was leaving this rose garden, her tears finally dry, and our discussions behind. Still drunk from a party brawl with her sort of boyfriend, and she was reciting love poetry. Sadly she turned and looked at me.

"God I wish I could forget every meeting with Lucius. I do James," And she turned once again and opened the door, leaving it cracked for my open invitation. But I had hardly moved before I heard her smiling voice call around the corner.

"Oh and James? I still hate you," and for the second time that night, I laughed. Because she was bloody serious.

!#&()(&#&())(&#&()&()(&#&(

review, and u get dibs on marauders…


End file.
